


Dear Santa

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Christmas, M/M, Mini Fest 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13720572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: Harry has to deal with a lot this Christmas.





	Dear Santa

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted December 2012 for mini-fest](http://mini-fest.livejournal.com/93103.html)

Harry gazed morosely at the plate of half eaten cookies on his desk. A string of overtly cheery lights hung haphazardly around a small plastic tree in a corner. And just in case _that_ wasn’t depressing enough, Hermione’s Christmas present- a wooden nutcracker- held court on one of his shelves, grinning cheerily at his pathetic state. Seriously, that thing was mocking him. 

Harry sighed. It wasn’t that he minded taking the Christmas shift at work. No, it was only fair considering that he was horrifically single while most of his fellow Aurors had families waiting for them and plans for the holidays and… okay, so he minded. A lot. But it was still better than sitting about in his pyjamas, eating ice cream straight out of the tub and watching _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ for the thousandth time. He was _not_ at the Bridget Jones phase yet, thank you very much. 

His festivities were interrupted by a head poking into his office.

“Still around, Harry?” Nick enquired with his customary warm smile. “Don’t mind if I clean out your office though, do you? I’ve got a long night ahead of me.”

“I’ll clean it up myself, Nick,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his frazzled hair. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

Nick laughed- a hearty laugh right from his belly. It made Harry smile just a bit as he started firing off random Cleaning Spells. Granted, it was the janitor’s job but Harry always felt a little guilty having someone as old as his Grandfather cleaning up his messes. 

“So why’s a nice boy like you hanging around the office on Christmas Eve?” Nick enquired. 

“An Auror’s work is never done,” Harry shrugged. “Specially around the…”

He was interrupted by an owl swooping into his office. Harry frowned- he usually got the flying memos like everybody else. The only owls in the Ministry were the ones up in the Owlery for official messages. An internal problem, perhaps? The owl circled about a few times before alighting on his desk and laying claim to Harry’s remaining cookies with a satisfied hoot. 

“No really, help yourself,” Harry mumbled dryly, trying to disentangle the note from its foot without getting pecked at. “ _Disturbance at the Ministry Owlery. Auror on duty to report immediately_ ,” he read. “Perfect.” 

“Go do your job, kid,” Nick smiled. “I’ll finish off here.” 

“You’re a saint, Nick,” Harry smiled gratefully. The old man’s eyes sparkled in a strangely Dumbledore like manner. “Can’t argue with the truth,” he chuckled.

Harry grabbed his wand and headed for the elevator. His empty footsteps echoed in the hallways. Seriously, everyone was off for the night. He sighed and entered the elevator, immediately hurtling to the top floor. The Owlery was dead ahead…

“Ouch! You _bit_ me, you filthy feathered fiend!” 

…and apparently under siege. 

Setting his jaw grimly, Harry stepped into the dark recess and raised his wand. “Magical Law Enforcement. Drop your wand and step forward slowly.”

There was complete silence for a few seconds. Harry wondered if the intruder was contemplating his next course of action and gripped his wand harder. Then a blithe voice called out. “No thank you.”

Harry gaped. “That was not a suggestion, sir,” he snapped. “Come out with your hands up or I’m coming in there to get you.”

“I’m a little busy at the moment, Mr. Growly Person,” the voice snapped back. There was a definite slur to that snarky tone that time and Harry groaned inwardly. Just his luck- of _course_ he would have to deal with a drunken idiot assaulting owls on Christmas Eve. Who was writing his life up there? 

“Sir, I’m going to ask you one more time,” he tried again, channeling his inner Hermione as best as he could. “Come out.”

“I told you I’m _busy_! Go…file something.” 

“That’s it,” Harry snapped, stepping in and waving his wand. The Lumos flared against his wand and a dim light bloomed through the Owlery. Harry winced as thousands of beady disapproving eyes fixed on him. The owls fluttered unhappily as he advanced and Harry had half a mind to tell them this wasn’t _his_ idea of a fun night either. The light was still ridiculously dim and he was having enough trouble just getting one foot in front of the other let alone battle a drunk, possible deranged… 

“ _Sonofacrup!_ Okay Feathers, you wanna play hardball? I’m having roast owl for Christmas!” 

“Release that owl at once!” Harry shouted, flaring up another Lumos. He wasn’t sure what did the trick but this time the light flared up all around him, bathing the Owlery in a bright glow. The owls screeched angrily at the new disturbance and Harry stopped short as he found himself staring at the last thing he’d ever expected. 

Draco Malfoy and a tawny Eagle Owl locked in a staring contest to the death.

“Malfoy?” Harry blurted. He could hardly believe it. Of all the drunken, stupid sods he could have encountered, did it have to be the one he’d been secretly crushing on for the last two years? Seriously, _who_ was writing his life up there?! 

“Potter?” Malfoy echoed, his brows arching in a frown. He looked confused and tipsy and ridiculously fit- even if he was teetering dangerously to the left. “Is that you? I’m only…thirty five percent sure you’re standing here.” He blinked and swayed precariously. “ I also see a dragon doing the polka but maybe that’s just me.”

“Malfoy, what the _hell_?” Harry cried. “What are you doing here? How much did you drink? And… _why_ are you arguing with an owl?” 

“That feathered cretin won’t comply with my commands! I demand you arrest him!” Malfoy informed him, swaying a little. The owl puffed up and hooted indignantly, apparently eager to get his side across as well. As far as moral standpoints went, Harry’s money was on the owl.

“I can’t arrest an owl,” he informed the tipsy blond. 

“You are _useless_ to me!” Malfoy retaliated with dramatic flair- arms raised heavenwards and everything. The owl hooted smugly and Harry rubbed his throbbing temples. 

“What exactly did this owl do, Malfoy?”

“He won’t deliver my letter!” Malfoy replied, waving a green envelope in his face. It even had sparkling silver sequins decorating it. Harry blinked as he squinted to read the address. 

_Santa Claus_  
_1 Reindeer Lane_  
_The North Pole_

Harry took a deep breath. Two more. Okay, one more- just in case. 

And then he imploded. 

“ _Santa?_ ” he blithered in perfectly justified outrage. “You’re writing to…you actually think…I was dragged out of my office because of a letter to _Santa_?” 

“You say it like its silly,” Draco sniffed disparagingly. Harry had to physically keep himself from lunging at the prat and throttling him. Malfoy however, was undeterred. 

“This is a very important letter, Potter! If Santa doesn’t get it tonight I’m going to have to wait a whole year for my presents!” His eyes actually flared a bit at that part. “And that Potter, is _unacceptable_!” 

“I’ll tell you what’s unacceptable, you prat!” Harry almost, but not quite yelled. “A grown man having his evening interrupted by another grown man sending letters to Santa sodding Claus! Have you lost your _mind_?” 

“Have you lost yours?” Malfoy demanded, just as outraged. “What part of _must have presents_ are you having trouble understanding, Potter? If Santa doesn’t get my letter in time, he’ll assume all I want for Christmas is peace and goodwill and all that rot!” 

Despite his rapidly dissipating patience, Harry had to cover his mouth to not burst out laughing at Malfoy’s look of abject horror. 

“I don’t think anyone will ever make that mistake, Malfoy,” he grinned. The blond looked about to strangle him so he held up his arms in surrender. One of them had to be mature about this and apparently it was going to be Harry. 

“Look Malfoy, I hate to break it to you, really I do. But thing is that…Santa Claus does not exist.”

There was complete silence in the Owlery following Harry’s announcements, save for a triumphant series of hoots from Malfoy’s owlish adversary. The blond, on the other hand, looked absolutely stricken. Those grey eyes were large and bright and were currently fixed upon him in a way that made Harry’s stomach twist in very guilty knots. Which was ridiculous really, because all he’d done was tell the truth…

Unfortunately, Malfoy was making him feel like he’d drowned a puppy and Harry wasn’t having a very good time of it. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to dispel some of the suffocating silence

“What?” the blond finally managed. His voice sounded small and painful and horribly dejected.

“You heard me,” Harry mumbled, shuffling his feet uneasily. “He’s not real, Draco.”

“That…that’s not true,” Draco murmured, shaking his head and backing away. He stumbled over slightly and Harry hurried to steady him. The blond was shaking and Harry snaked an arm around his waist, trying not to think about the warmth of the pale skin right under Draco’s thin white shirt.

“It is,” Harry said gently. 

“You’re lying!” Draco replied, shaking his head stubbornly and scowling at him. “You’re just being _mean_ again! Like…like you used to be at school!”

It was testament to Harry’s exhaustion that he didn’t argue about Malfoy’s ludicrous accusation of _him_ being the mean one at Hogwarts. Instead, he tried to channel the remains of his patience into trying to handle the distraught blond. “Come on, Malfoy. Its cold here and I think the owl’s made himself pretty clear, so why don’t we just take this to my office? Maybe get you a sobering potion or three.” 

Malfoy didn’t say anything, choosing instead to stare blankly at the letter in his hand. Harry decided to take that as a yes, so he sighed and slipped an arm around Malfoy’s waist again, shepherding him away from the owls. The blond complied, stumbling a bit but otherwise steady. Harry kept up a soothing stream of encouragement the whole way. He was feeling a little guilty about the whole thing, and the truth was that Malfoy’s dejected expression was starting to gnaw at him a bit. Malfoy looked his best when he was screaming at Harry, not like this- all small and lost and heartbroken. Harry hand snaked up to his slim shoulders as if to shelter him protectively and he turned for the stairs. Malfoy probably wouldn’t do well with the elevator in his current state and Harry had had enough drama for the night.

“You’re wrong, though.”

Harry jerked his head up to stare at Malfoy. “Sorry?”

“About Santa Claus,” Malfoy clarified. His jaw was set and he looked as determined as before. Apparently they were going to have another argument.

“I’m not,” Harry replied, just as stubbornly. He wasn’t sure why he was forcing the point- Malfoy was clearly a mulish drunk- but he just felt like he had to explain this to him. Santa wasn’t real and it wasn’t healthy for Malfoy to delude himself like this.

“You are!” the blond insisted. “Ask anyone!”

“ _You_ ask anyone!” Harry argued back. “Or you could just take my bloody word for it and save yourself some disappointment!” 

“Then explain the presents under my tree every Christmas!” Malfoy cried, pointing an accusing finger in his chest.

“Your parents put them there!”

“Have you _met_ my father, Potter? Does he look the sort to put presents under the sodding tree?” 

In all fairness, he had a point. Harry didn’t care and Malfoy was starting to piss him off again. “Be that as it may, it doesn’t mean Santa exists!”

“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t!”

They had reached the office by this time. Malfoy stumbled in and turned to face Harry, his arms crossed and his back straight. Oh, he was going to fight this to the _death_. Harry tried not to give in to the urge to scream in frustration. “Just sit down and I’ll get you a Sobering Potion,” he gritted out. 

“Don’t you run away, Potter! You know I’m right!” Malfoy was following him now, bearing down on him like an aggressive and somewhat petulant dragon. Harry was in no mood to be cowed down.

“You’re not right! You’re stubborn, not to mention _stupid_!” he yelled. “Santa isn’t real!” 

“He is! He is real!” Malfoy bellowed back. “And _you’re_ stupid!” he added as an afterthought. 

“Malfoy, I swear to God I’m going to…” 

His death threat was interrupted by a kindly face peeking into his office again. “Harry?” Nick enquired, looking at the two scowling men with kindly concern. “Is everything alright?”

Malfoy let out a startled squeak, and Harry turned just in time to see his jaw hit the floor. The blond was staring at Nick with a look somewhere between awe and rapture. Harry took one look at the shocked blond and another at Nick- noting his portly frame and snowy beard and kindly smile- before putting a very ominous two and two together. “Oh no,” he moaned. “Oh Merlin, no…”

“Santa?” Draco stammered, taking a step towards the janitor. Nick smiled and Draco made a noise that sounded suspiciously like _eep!_

“Draco,” Harry began, wondering how best to handle this new development. “That’s not Santa, that’s the janitor, Nick. And…”

“Draco, is it?” Nick cut in quickly, giving Harry a quick wink before turning to smile warmly at the blond. “Well, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. You write the most eloquent letters, young man.”

“S-s- _santa_?” Draco squeaked again, eyes impossibly wide and mouth still open. “Are you…are you really…Potter, its Santa! I told you he’s real! I _told_ you! _Santaaaa!_ ” 

Before Harry could react, the blond was running towards the old man, launching himself straight into Nick’s outstretched arms. Nick staggered and had to adjust his spectacles, but he returned the enthusiastic hug and chuckled. “Affectionate, this one,” he whispered to Harry as Draco wrapped himself around him like a crooning cat.

“Not always,” Harry replied dryly. “He’s just had a lot to drink. He’s usually a huge prat.”

“I know,” Nick grinned. Harry frowned and started to question that but Nick had already turned back to the delighted blond. “So now that we’ve been introduced why don’t you tell me about yourself, Draco? Anything special you want for Christmas?”

“Tons, Santa! I wrote you this letter and I wanted to send it out but then the owl was a great prat and then Potter was a great prat too and he said you weren’t real but _I_ said you were and…” 

“Ho ho, slow down there, son,” Nick chuckled. “Old Santa needs a minute to catch up. Now what’s this I hear about a letter?” 

Draco grinned happily and handed him the letter and Nick read through it. “As eloquent as ever, I see,” he chuckled. “By the way, you’ve been spelling separate with an _e_ instead of an _a_ ever since you were six.” 

“I have?” Draco frowned, peering at the letter. 

“But that’s not important,” Nick twinkled. “What’s important is- have you been naughty or nice this year?”

“I’ve been very nice,” Draco replied firmly. Harry snorted disbelievingly and Draco scowled at him. “No matter what Potter says,” he added, just in case Santa decided to take sides.

“I believe you,” Nick smiled. “So I’m going to ask you for a very special favour this Christmas.”

“Anything, Santa,” Draco promised fervently, still holding on to him. 

Nick patted his head fondly. “Well then Draco, what I’m going to ask from you is to think more about what you give than what you get for Christmas. I’m going to ask you to think about all the people who love you and care about you and remember, that they love you for who you are, not what you have. And that you love them just the same, and that you’d still love them even if they didn’t have a Knut to their name. Can you do that for Santa?”

Harry watched intently as Draco processed that. The blond was clearly vacillating, biting his lip uncertainly. He looked just about ready to refuse and Harry was sure he would, so no one was him more surprised than him when Draco replied with a quiet “Okay.”

“What?” he blurted.

“Are you sure, Draco?” Nick asked.

“I’m sure,” Draco replied, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Thank you, Draco,” Nick replied softly. “Thank you so much. Now about this letter…”

“You don’t _have_ to get me those presents,” Draco mumbled, managing to not sound resentful at all- a feat that Harry mentally marked up to a Christmas Miracle. “You can…you can give them all to charities or something?” 

“That sounds nice,” Nick smiled. “What do you think, Harry?”

“I…think that sounds brilliant,” Harry blurted, sensing a cue. “Good on you, Malfoy.”

“Thanks Potter,” the blond replied. And damn if that soft voice and the hint of a smile on Malfoy’s lips didn’t make Harry’s stomach twist. 

“Well then, if we’re all settled Santa needs to get going,” Nick said cheerfully “And you need to be in bed, Draco. Harry- a little help, please?” Together, they managed to help the exhausted blond on to a sofa. Draco was asleep in seconds, barely mumbling a _Goodnight, Santa_ before he was dead to the world. Harry transfigured a napkin into a blanket and tucked him in. 

“Thanks for playing Santa for him,” he said quietly to Nick once he was sure Malfoy was down and out. “I really didn’t know what to do with him for a while.”

“Oh, he’s a bit bratty, but I find those are the ones that need a little pampering now and then,” Nick chuckled. “Gave you a tough night, did he?”

“He just wouldn’t quit on the whole _Santa Is Real_ thing,” Harry muttered irritably. “It was like arguing with a brick wall. And losing!”

“So why be such a cynic, Harry? Maybe Santa is real.”

“He’s not, okay? He not and I can’t believe I’m having this conversation again.”

“But maybe he does exist.” 

“He _doesn’t_.”

“But why not?”

“Because he just doesn’t, Nick!” Harry snapped, standing up angrily as the last of his patience evaporated. “Because if he _was_ real, he’d know that when I was seven, all I wanted was this toy train set and I tried really hard to be good and everything, but guess what? It wasn’t there on Christmas. In fact, there were no presents for me at all. And my cousin Dudley got this mountain of gifts that I wasn’t allowed near and _that’s_ the way it was, Nick. Because Santa isn’t real, never was- and it’s so _stupid_ that Malfoy still believes so much because one day, he’s going to wake up and be just as disappointed as I was. So excuse me for trying to save someone from that because, believe me Nick- it’s a crappy, crappy feeling.”

Harry sighed and slumped on a chair, exhausted by his emotional tirade. He hadn’t even realized how much disappointment and anger he’d been harboring for so long. That couldn’t be healthy. There was not a sound in the room except for Draco’s peaceful breathing. Nick was quiet for a while before moving towards him and giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m very sorry you had to go through that, Harry,” he said quietly. “But, that’s no reason not to _believe_. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes- even Santa overlooks a few things.”

“Nick, I _can’t_ have this argument all over again,” Harry sighed. “Please, I just…I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Oh, I won’t be here tomorrow, Harry,” Nick said, shaking his head. “It’s my last night here. In fact, I start with my old job again tonight. It’s…rather special, you see.” His lips quirked into a smile behind his beard. “I’d do it all year round if I could but it’s a tad…well, let’s say seasonal.”

“You’re leaving?” Harry blurted. “Wow. I’ll… miss you. It was nice having a friendly face around.”

Nick nodded. “Merry Christmas, young Harry. And…just so you know- you can get upset over an old present you didn’t get for as long as you like and I won’t tell you any different, I promise.  But sometimes, you end up with these gifts that you don’t even know you need and _they’re_ the most special. Maybe you should start looking for those instead. Specifically, on your sofa,” he added with a chuckle.

Harry’s eyes swept over Draco’s sleeping form and despite himself he smiled. “I guess I could do that. I think I will. Thanks Nick, you’ve been a great…help.”

Harry trailed off as he realized he was talking to an empty room. He looked around but Nick was gone. Huh, that was quick for an old man. Draco mumbled something about Rudolf and Harry chuckled, walking over to the sofa and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Idiot,” he whispered fondly. Draco gave a small sigh and curled against him, hooking on to his arm.

Harry chuckled and disentangled himself. He wondered if there was something he could transfigure to use as a pillow or something...he stretched his arm out and opened a desk drawer, looking for something that might work. His hand connected with something. Harry frowned, wondering what on earth he had in his drawer that would feel like…

Oh Merlin.

Harry gaped at the item he had withdrawn from the desk. 

It was a toy train. Harry stared dumbstruck at the shiny engine in his hands. It was exactly as he had imagined- red and black and silver for the wheels. Grinning, he wound a key on its side. The engine chugged as the wheels spun around in his grip. It was perfect- exactly what he had asked for all those years back! Exactly what he’d asked Santa to bring him for…

“Oh God,” Harry murmured, running his hand over his present. “ _Nick._ ”

And just like that, it all came together. Harry’s throat clenched as he stared at the beautiful red engine in his hand, and Draco curled around the other. His Christmas presents- hand delivered to him by… him.

There only seemed one thing left to do now. 

Harry smiled as he settled down comfortably, taking care not to disturb Draco. He whispered a quick _accio_ and summoned some writing paper and a quill.

_Dear Santa…_


End file.
